


"Stay Young"

by Sweetloot



Series: Inspired By [14]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Canon Compliant, Childhood Friends, F/M, Gen, Sad, Wash's POV, a walk down memory lane, it's a connie and wash story but the others are mentioned some, mentions of other freelancers, more friendship than anything guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:16:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2083440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetloot/pseuds/Sweetloot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>But can you still remember your very first kiss?</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Or the future you hoped for when we were still kids?</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Stay Young"

**Author's Note:**

> (Inspired by ["Stay Young"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0YHypPV2Zvo) by Strata.)
> 
> This got out of hand. Listen and read at the same time for the full heartbreaking effect.
> 
> Enjoy!

Wash remembers when he was a kid, silly straw in his juice box and the straw that came with the box tossed carelessly on the floor of the car. Juice tasted better through a silly straw, it was just science.

He remembers meeting a girl on the playground, his mom having brought him there so he could find some friends.

He remembers pulling her brown pigtail. He remembers her pushing him into the sand. He remembers crying for his mom and the girl calling him a baby before sitting in the sand with him, handing him a gummy shaped like a dinosaur and telling him to be quiet and eat it.

He remembers telling her she was mean but taking the gummy anyway, biting off the head because that's how you ate anything shaped like an animal.

He remembers her telling him her name was Constance and that she hated her name because there were too many letters and her teachers would get mad at her when she spelled it wrong.

He remembers telling her his name was David.

She said she was going to call him Davie and he was going to call her Connie because they were best friends now and best friends called each other by nicknames, her big sister said so.

He remembers shrugging, taking another gummy, and saying that made sense to him.

He remembers them being best friends for years, laughing and chasing each other through childhood. He remembers skid knees and smile face bandages and Connie pushing him downhill on a bike because he was in third grade and he didn't even know how to ride a bike yet and she was going to fix that.

He remembers her signing his cast while she sniffled beside him.

He remembers ruffling her hair and telling her to forget about it, he was probably going to do something stupid soon too.

He remembers helping her lifting her cast coated leg up onto pillows after going to the roller rink together and having their wheels get locked together, Davie falling on top of her and her leg taking the brunt of the impact.

He remembers kissing her in middle school, of her kissing him back, and of sticking their tongues out at each other afterward, wondering why people worried about their first kiss so much.

He remembers the first day of high school, of staying up late and worrying that they would drift apart, all of those shows on TV saying that's what happened to childhood friends once they entered high school.

He remembers Connie letting herself into this house and dumping a glass of cold water on his head to wake him up, saying that he may be her best friend, but she was _not_ going to be late because of his sorry ass.

Davie remembers smiling and Connie asking if he hit his head.

He remembers the night of prom, both of them single and thinking prom was stupid and not going, instead dancing in Davie's living room to bad pop music and throwing popcorn at each other when they got tired of dancing and decided to watch a cheesy horror movie.

He remembers late night talks, remembers plans for college, how they were going to room together – fuck the no co-ed roommates rule – he remembers talks of being neighbors, of her teasing him about all the cats he was going to own, of saying he'd name one after her just to spite her, of her saying he'd better not or else she'd get a dog and name it David. He remembers laughing, saying he wouldn't mind that.

He remembers when war broke through the blockade of ships surrounding Earth, remembers the sky painted with fire.

He remembers the day they walked to the recruitment station together, bags slung over their shoulders and not looking back.

He remembers training, remembers the way her small hands beat the kinks out of his back was almost worse than how he got them. He remembers helping her stretch, having catcalls thrown their way before Connie wiped the floor with them at hand-to-hand combat training.

Davie remembers the day he started going by David again, only letting Connie call him Davie when they were in private. 

David remembers the war dragging on forever, of losing friends and squadmates, but always having Connie by his side, almost two heads shorter and always there to watch his back.

He remembers when she was counted as MIA after a battle, of demanding they go look for her, and having to bite so hard against his tongue he drew blood when his CO said that another word from him would get him a court martial.

He remembers sobbing into his hands, sitting on his bare bunk, the sheets at his feet, remembers the raw ache of loosing Connie, remembers staying up all night not believing she was gone.

He remembers being on patrol on too little sleep, remembers dragging his feet and wishing Connie was beside him to complain about the soggy, awful weather and to tell him it was his own fault he was tired, that he should have gone to bed sooner, stupid.

He remembers seeing a figure stumbling towards base in the distance, remembers raising a sniper rifle and peering through the sight, remembers dropping the rifle, forgetting his tiredness, and sprinting towards Connie, swooping in to catch her. 

He remembers calling her a slew of names, remembers her laughing and telling him that she got them, those fuckers were dead. Remembers her chuckling, telling him he worried too much, she said she would always come back, they were best friends, remember?

David remembers sitting by her beside, arms pillowed onto her thigh as he waited for her to wake up so he could yell at her for being so stupid.

He remembers knife training, remembers her showing him the best way to grip the handle. He remembers nearly slicing his own finger off.

He remembers rising through the ranks, Connie always there, rising with him.

He remembers the day they were chosen for Project Freelancer.

He remembers their first mission.

He remembers her accomplishments.

She remembers her failures.

He remembers the day she tells him to stop calling her Connie, that it made her sound like a fucking kid. 

He remembers the day Connie became C.T.

He remembers the day that she stopped calling him Davie was the day he stopped calling himself David.

He remembers that David is dead and Washington took his place.

He remembers them drifting apart, of her keeping secrets, not talking to him.

Wash remembers questioning where his best friend went.

He remembers one special day, one where she took off her helmet and smiled at him, asking if there was a seat left beside Davie at the lunch table and if she could join him.

He remembers smiling beneath his helmet, saying yes there was, but he was saving it for Connie.

He remembers them talking for hours, the lights dimming in the mess hall, of people leaving and going to bed.

He remembers telling her that he wished they had stayed young.

He remembers her grabbing his hand across the table, giving it a squeeze, and telling him it wasn't possible, that they couldn't go back, they had too keep looking forward, had to do their jobs, to insure that future they talked about, remember?

He remembers her standing up, him following suit. He remembers her turning to leave, before seeming to change her mind, instead pulling him into a hug, one that was a long time coming, one that didn't last long enough, and ended with him swearing he heard her say that she would make sure their future happened, now matter what, promise.

He remembers the next day she was gone.

He remembers swearing, cursing, wondering what the hell she was doing. 

He remembers waiting up for her to come back, just like she always did.

He remembers feeling like everything she ever said to him was a lie, like she had pointed a loaded gun at his heart and pulled the trigger.

He remembers she was his best friend.

He remembers loosing her, only to loose her again when Tex called in to say that C.T had had escaped, severally wounded and likely not going to make it.

Wash remembers wishing he could talk to her, one last time, if only to ask her _why_.

He remembers finding her helmet in the desert, feeling like he was going to be sick but having no time to grieve, he had a job to do. She was in the past, he needed to move on.

He remembers everything getting quiet, all the battles being over and being in his bunk in Blue Base, shipwrecked on an unknown planet, having time to think.

He remembers being flooded with the past, of holding it back like he always did, but ultimately failing. 

He could never outrun them, could never forget Connie's smile, the way her brown eyes shined. He could never forget Maine, his comforting presence and silent, huffy laughs or the way Carolina's face changed, just slightly, when she was proud of Wash's progress. He could never forget the weight of North's hand on his shoulder or the feeling of York clapping him on the back.

He wished he could have stayed young forever, could have hid Connie away, collected his friends and taken them far, far away. Away from the bloodshed, the heartbreak, the betrayal, the pain, _all of it_.

But he couldn't.

All he had left of them were his memories, the questions that plagued him that only the dead could answer. 

He had his nightmares, of waking up with his chest heaving and fear latching their talons into him. He had his daydreams, of the future he and Connie had dreamed up, of being neighbors and having pets named after each other and bothering each other at one in the morning because their houses were lonely and they wanted to have a pizza party in their pajamas like they used to. He remembers adding York, Carolina, Maine, and North to the dream. Of having the scene change to living in an apartment building together, of adding the other Freelancers because it didn't matter if they had been close or not, they deserved peace too.

He remembers those daydreams melting into a pool at his feet, his insomnia having kept him up until daybreak and him needing to get dressed and fix the radio tower.

He still had a future to fight for, after all.

He just stopped planning for people to be in it.

**Author's Note:**

> _It's the business end of a loaded gun_   
>  _Facing tomorrows of black useless lungs_   
>  _With nothing but lies left on tips of our tongues_   
>  _Stay young, stay young_


End file.
